Just Your Average Sorcerer
by LuckyLark and Darkshadow
Summary: Micheal's just your average guy. He grew up in Detroit, made some friends, and learns magic to become a Sorcerer. Or, wait, is that not normal? Well, it's become Micheal's normal. Every day he drinks tea, talks with friends, and learns how to teleport things from across the world- Hey, is that famous doctor Stephen Strange? What's he doing here?
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a new story! I'll try to update often, and it should be pretty easy considering how fun it wil be to write.**

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"I want a new phone."

Michael tossed his current cellular device from hand to hand, unafraid to drop it since the case was probably strong enough to survive whatever killed the dinosaurs.

The girl sitting across from him looked up, "What?"

A loud shushing noise echoed from across the room, and the two people glanced across the room in unison. "Sorry Wong."

The bookkeeper simply rolled his eyes and let his gaze fall back to his book, which was lying open on the desk in front of him.

The girl looked back at Michael. "You know what-" she closed her book and slipped it into her bag, "-how about we go get lunch, it's about that time anyway and I'm done with my work."

The two left the library, and as soon as Michael was sure that Wong couldn't hear them, he started again, "Like I was saying, I want a new phone."

The girl squinted at the one he was currently holding, "Isn't that one good enough?"

"Yeah, but Pamela," he pressed the large button on the side of the phone and the lock screen appeared, "It's so old. All the new phone's have all these fancy new features."

"So what?" Pamela patted her bag, "Old is reliable. Just like spellbooks we use here at Kamar-Taj."

Michael gave her a pointed look, "That's not the same thing, and you know it."

Pamela furrowed her brows and gave Michael a sidelong glance, "How would you even afford that? You haven't been working a secret side-job for the mob or something, have you?"

Michael shook his head, "Nope, though I wouldn't even be that surprised at myself, but the truth is that on weekends I'll go out into the city and teach piano."

Pamela glanced up at him, "You know piano?"

"A bit, it was a required instrument in school."

"Ugh, lucky. How much do you make?"

Michael smiled, "Why, you want me for my money or something?"

Pamela gagged, "God no."

Michael suddenly stopped and sniffed the air, "What's that smell?"

"Do you think Reyansh made Puran Poli again?"

The two looked at each other and grinned before sprinting towards the kitchens.

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Michael leaned against an old fig tree, sighing and closing his eyes. "That was the best food I've ever had."

The pair sat in one of the small gardens littered around Kamar-Taj, small patches of grass with a few bushes and trees littered about. This one happened to be right next to the courtyard where Michael's next class would be, and they could already see the teacher setting up.

Pamela frowned and prodded his shoulder, "Lies, my cupcakes are the best thing in the world and you know it."

Michael wriggled away from Pamela's touch, "Face it Pam, your cupcakes taste like sh-"

"SILENCE!" She shrieked as she pushed him over. He flopped onto the soft grass and made no effort to get up.

"I stand by what I said."

Pamela huffed and moved into a crouched position. She blew a strand of black hair out of her eyes, "Yeah, well next time I make cupcakes, you aren't getting any."

Micheal sat up. "I'm not worried, you're just helping me maintain my gorgeous figure." He struck a model-esque pose, sticking his hands up in the air and making a kissy face.

Pamela picked up a clump of loose grass and threw it at him, "You're gross."

Micheal brushed grass and dirt off of his robes before standing. He reached down and picked up the food basket. He held out the basket to the still-sitting Pamela, "Hey, can you take this back to the pantry, I've got class in a few minutes."

Pamela stood and took the basket from his outstreched hand, "Sure, I don't really have anything else to do for the rest of the day except read anyway."

"Blegh," Micheal stuck a finger in his mouth, "How can you stand reading? It's so boring!"

Pamela sighed and shook her head, "I'm not even gonna' start that argument now dude. You just wouldn't understand."

"I guess not." Micheal glanced over at on of the staircases leading down onto the cobblestone courtyard. A few students, all dressed in similar, pale colored robes, were trickling down the stairs. "Well I better get going."

"Yeah, alright, hey, thanks for having lunch with me."

"No problem, plus, I really just came for the Puran Poli."

Pamela smiled, "Yeah, whatever. See you later Micheal!"

"Later Pam!"

With that, Michael turned and headed over to the teacher, hoping to get a few pointers before class.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, just to let you know I've never written a deaf character before so feedback would be greatly appreciated. I really want to know if I am doing anything wrong.**

**Well, other than that, enjoy the chapter!**

Michael's eyes fluttered open. He was taking a nap on his bed, or, had been taking a nap on his bed, when something had woken him up;

though he didn't really mind, as he had been having the worst dream.

He slowly sat up and stretched, recalling the strange, shadowy figures from the dream, and what they had been saying, _Dormammu._

Michael shrugged, _Whatever, bad dreams happen_\- he glanced at the heavily curtained window next to his bed- _It's over now, so what's the harm?_

Something across the room caught Michael's attention. A small, white piece of paper was sticking out from under the door.

Michael gave it a wary glance, he wondered if this was one of Mordo's tests again and if the paper was going to explode as soon as he touched it. Wincing, he recalled the training test involving a lone cupcake sitting in the center of a table. "Always be wary of objects that seem the most innocent"_, _those were the words his teacher had ingrained into his head from day one.

He cautiously held his hand out to the paper, flicking his wrist slightly and casting a simple disenchanting spell. He hoped that it was enough.

He walked over to the paper, sliding the rest of it out from under his door with his big toe. Bending down to pick it up, he read the fancy, curved writing, _You're Invited!_

Before he could even ask himself what he could possibly be invited to, he felt something smack hard into the side of his head. He fell back onto the floor, still clutching the paper in his hand.

A short, black-haired man burst through the doorway. He glanced down at Michael and quickly made a few signs in ASL. "Why are you on the floor?"

Michael signed back, "You hit me with the door, Joey."

"Sorry," Joey signed. He held out a small piece of paper that was identical to Michael's. "Did you get a paper?"

"Yep, mine looks just like yours," Michael signed, standing up and holding out his paper.

"What do you think it means?"

Michael shrugged, "I'm not sure."

Joey tapped his chin for a few moments before suddenly his face lit up: as if an idea had struck him. He made the sign for 'follow' and turned to race out the door.

Michael grabbed him by the back of the shirt. "Wait for a second Joey, explain first."

Joey grunted and turned back around, he quickly made a few signs and stared expectantly at Michael.

"Oh, find Margaret! Great idea Joey."

Joey nodded, rolling his eyes. He made and jerked his thumb towards the door.

"We'll go in a minute, but I gotta change out of my pajamas-" Micheal looked his friend up and down-" and do you want to stay in those boxers, or…"

After taking a few minutes to change, the two were off. They raced through the building, climbing up and down stairs, ducking in and out of rooms, and totally not tripping over various things (including people), until they finally found what they were looking for.

It was a small balcony, only able to fit three small tables and a few potted plants. It was known for its excellent view of the city, and Micheal knew for a fact that it didn't disappoint; since he often came here to relax after a rigorous training session with Mordo. On a normal day a person could see the entire village, perfectly framed by a distant mountain range, and beyond that, a backsplash of bright blue sky.

There was only one problem, this apparently wasn't a normal day, because a small storm cloud was hovering just above the balcony. Rain poured out of it in a sheet; soaking the stone floor.

"I don't think Margaret is here," Joey signed, turning to Michael.

Joey gestured to the cloud, "No way, really? Also, what the hell is that thing?"

"Hi Joey, hi Michael!"

Michael jumped. He turned to look at the sound before letting out a sigh of relief, "Oh, it's just you Margaret."

Margaret Levine, otherwise known as what happens when you shove sugar and spice and everything nice into a four-foot-ten package, was standing behind the two. She tapped Joey on the shoulder, waiting for him to see her before signing, "Are you two looking for looking for me?"

"Yeah, we were, I thought you had tea with Master Hamir here every couple days. What's with this cloud?"

"Just some student getting caught up in their magic. Master Hamir said we can have tea in the sunshine room instead. I'm kind of disappointed though, the sunshine room is pretty, but the view from this balcony is so much better," Margaret sighed. "What did you want me for anyway?"

Micheal held up the piece of paper, "Yeah, we have to ask you something. Do you know-"

Joey burst in front of him, signing rapidly.

Margaret took a step back, putting her arms up in front of her. "Okay, I get it. You want to know what I think of those invites everyone got this morning."

"I was getting to that, but Joey just _had _to cut me off."

"You sign too slow."

"Well, it is a second speak to me."

"Speak? Don't you mean language?"

"See! I told you it's like a- Can you repeat that sign again?"

Joey started forming the sign for 'language' again when Micheal's arms suddenly shot down to his sides. Opposite him, Joey's did the same thing. Micheal tried wiggling his fingers but found they were unalbe to move.

He glanced at Margaret, who was pointing a finger in their direction. The short woman's fiery glare burned a hole in his head.

"Okay, we're done talking now," he said, glancing at Joey, who was giving Margaret a look of both awe and fear.

Margaret smiled, "Thank you." She flicked her wrist and a burst of sparks left her fingertips. They landed on Micheal and Joey, where they glowed for a moment before disappearing. When they were gone, Micheal realized he could move his beloved limbs again.

He rubbed his arms, "Could you, like, never do that again."

"Sure, as long as you don't come for me for help and then immediately forget I'm there," she signed.

Joey, who was hopping from foot to foot, signed, "So, about the invites."

"Oh, right!" Margaret reached into her bag and pulled out the same piece of white paper Micheal had pulled from under his door earlier. "At first I was kind of weirded out, you know, a mysterious note gets slid under your door in the morning, who wouldn't be? But then I flipped it open and-"

Micheal waved his hand, struggling to find the right signs, "Wait, what do you mean, open it?"

Margaret blinked, "I mean open it. It's not just a slip of paper, it's a card. Did you two not know that?"

"No," signed Micheal at the same time Joey signed, "Yes."

Margaret sighed, "Well if you had known that and opened it, you would have seen that there's more information inside: a time and a place. I looked up the generally publicly celebrated events or holidays in this region, and apparently today, and tomorrow and the next day, is part of a three day Labor Day holiday. The invite says that we should head to the town square at four-thirty. I'm guessing there will be some sort of party or parade."

Micheal put a hand to his chin and nodded, "Okay, I got about two-thirds of that." He turned to Joey and signed, "Explain?"

Joey rolled his eyes and signed a simple explanation of what Margaret had said.

"Oh, a party, cool!" Micheal grinned, "I hope there's good food, and music, and food."

Margaret shook her head and signed, "I don't care what they have, as long as it's not Barfi. I'm so lactose intolerant just looking at that stuff will make me sick!"

"Don't worry, I'll eat it for you," Joey signed back, smirking.

"Great Joey, listen, I got to get to the sunshine room, Master Hamir and I are having tea today and I really don't want to be late."

"Bye Margaret," Micheal said out loud. Joey signed the same before Margaret hurried off towards the sunshine room.

"The whole thing was just a party," Micheal signed, turning to Joey, "Well, at least it wasn't something worse."

"What do you mean?"

"You heard what happened to the old librarian, I just didn't want this to be something bad."

"If you're really worried we can bring the paper to the Ancient One-"

"No, no, I wouldn't want to worry her about nothing."

The two turned and headed down a hallway in the general direction of the kitchens.

"Hey Micheal, do want to get some breakfast?"

Micheal's shoulders slumped in a way that almost looked resigned, but Joey knew that Micheal could never be resigned about food.

"Yeah."

Flashes of bright, colorful banners swam around the square and playful drumbeats danced through the crowd of people. The smell of frying foods and steaming meats flooded the streets and the sound of people laughing and talking filled the air.

Micheal stood off to the side with Pam, Margaret, Joey, and few other Kamar-Taj students. He took a sip of juice from his glass and glanced around nervously.

"So, are we supposed to just… Join in?" Margaret asked, peeking her head out from behind Micheal's back.

"I don't know, it feels kind of rude to just barge in on their celebration."

Pam elbowed Micheal out of the way, "C' mon you guys, it's no big deal! This is a _town celebration_, we live _in the town_. Therefore, by the rules of etiquette, we are allowed to join in without it being awkward."

Margaret stepped out from behind Micheal but still stayed close, "Pam, I don't really like big parties on a normal day. I might just stay here with Micheal and the others."

Pam shrugged and tucked a strand of short black hair behind her ear before brushing her robes off. "Suit yourselves," she turned to Joey, who had been eyeing a plate of dumplings sitting on a nearby food cart. She tapped him on the shoulder and, once he turned, quickly signed out the phrase, "Come on."

Joey nodded and followed Pam, not forgetting to wave to Margaret and Micheal. The two weaved their way into the crowd, and eventually, Micheal lost sight of them; though he thought he could catch glimpses of Joey buzzcut or Pam's pink headband every now and then. He looked back at Margaret to see if there was anything she wanted to do and saw her squinting at a crowd of people exiting the doors of Kamar-Taj.

A smile appeared suddenly on her face and she grabbed his arm. "Micheal, follow me, there's someone I want you to meet." Her grip on his arm tightened and she dragged him over to the doors.

"Well, I mean technically I'm not following you because- You know what, never mind."

After saying 'Excuse me,' and 'Please move,' about a hundred times, Margaret came to a stop in front of a dark-skinned girl with a morose look, and black makeup, covering her face.

"Hey Corvina," Margaret said, grinning. She pushed Micheal in front of her, "This is the friend I told you about, Micheal!"

Corvina stared at Micheal with what was either rage or indifference. She gave a listless wave, "Sup."

"Uh, hi."

Margaret glanced between the two, a smile practically splitting her face in half. "Micheal, Corvina is very into the 'goth' fashion movement, as you can probably tell," she gestured to the other girl's dark eyeshadow and lipstick, "Isn't that just neat?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." Michael scratched the back of his neck, "Listen, I don't want to be rude or anything since I just met you, but…"

Corvina's glared at Margaret while the latter almost squealed in excitement.

"Have you heard of a song called 'Welcome to the Black Parade'?"

Corvina stepped back as her eyes widened, "No. Freaking. Way. I LOVE MCR!"  
"That's awesome, I love them too!" He smirked, "And, no offense or anything, but I could tell you were a fan since the moment I saw you."

Corvina quirked an eyebrow, "Intuition?"

"No, all-" He gestured to her makeup filled face and black robes, "-This."

Corvina laughed and nudged Margaret, "You sure have good taste in friends Marge."

The blonde girl grinned even wider and began bouncing on her heels, "I sure do."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hey guys, back with another chapter! Thanks to CalmSheJaguar for the stellar writing advice! About writing descriptions for the way the characters look, I always find it kind of frustrating when a writer will just seem to blurt out randomly in the middle of a chapter, "OH AND SHE HAS RED HAIR WITH FRECKLES AND GREEN EYES!" because sometimes it can seem overbearing. I want to try and let the character appearances come out naturally. But, if any of you want to know what the cast looks like, I'll try to fit that in next chapter. _**

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_BANGBANGBANG_

"MICHEAL!"

_BANGBANGBANG_

"MICHEAL!"

_BANGBANGBANG_

"MI-!"

"IT IS ONE IN THE MORNING PAMELA, WHAT THE _HELL _COULD YOU _POSSIBLY WANT_!"

Pam didn't even blink in response to the Micheal bursting open, or to his shouting.

"Joey, Margaret, Corvina and I are getting something to eat, you in?"

"No."

"Yeah, you are. Now get out of those PJs and into something presentable."

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Soon, after changing into a stained T-Shirt and ripped jeans, Michael stood before three, massive, stone doors. One of them went to the New York sanctum, one went to the Hong Kong sanctum, and one went to the London sanctum. Each led to a building similar to the next, housing all sorts of magic people and items. All four of the buildings, including the one Michael was standing in, created a sort of shield around the Earth that guarded it against magical attacks.

At least, that's what Michael remembered from the History of Magic books Margaret had let him borrow.

Just in front of him stood Joey, who had made a squished 'O' with his hand and was now rapid fire smashing it against his mouth.

Michael gave him a friendly shove, "We get it, you want food, but what kind?"

"There are three options," Corvina said, pointing at each door individually, "Chinese food, American food, or English food." She tilted her head, "Though, I'm not sure what English food would be exactly."

Margaret crossed her fingers, "Please say Chinese, please say Chinese, please say Chinese."

"Listen," Pam began, "I love my country's food just as much as anybody, but what I want right now is a thick, juicy, probably gonna' give me diabetes American cheeseburger!" Pam patted her cupped hands together, the sign for 'hamburger'.

Joey nodded enthusiastically.

"I'm up for that, as long as we go to McDonald's." Michael said while quickly signing out the word: 'McDonald's'. The rest of the group, except for Margaret, replied with cheers.

"Fine," Margaret huffed, crossing her arms, "But I'm getting chicken nuggets."

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"I didn't think it was possible to enjoy and also be so disgusted by something at the same time," Corvina said. She gave her burger a questioning look as if trying to decipher what it was made of.

"Welcome to Mickey D's," Pam signed, taking a bite of her colorless burger.

Joey glanced at Corvina, then signed something to Michael. Michael set down his burger, "He says he can't believe you've never been to McDonald's, Corvina."

Corvina shrugged, "My mom's a total health nut, so we never really went to places like this." She turned her head to look out the large, glass window that was next to the group's booth. Outside, a large golden 'M' lit up the night, acting as a beacon for any hungry travelers. "Well, except for the times she went away on business trips. Then my dad and I would watch movies until our brains rotted and eat at greasy fast food places, usually Taco Bell." She surveyed the lifeless, bland wall decor, "But at least they had better taste than this place-" she gave her burger a pointed look- "IIn two ways."

Margaret smiled, "Your father seems like a nice man."

Corvinapicked at her burger, "Yeah he was, too bad we can't do stuff like that anymore."

Michael held back his question long enough to translate Corvina's words for Joey. Then he turned back to her, "Why can't you two do stuff like that anymore. Is it because you moved to Kamar-Taj?"

Corvina didn't meet Michael's eyes, "You could say it's that."

Joey nudged Michael's shoulder to get him to translate. Michael quickly signed what she had said, but couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong. He felt like something was off about her answer.

Michael glanced at Pam. She simply shrugged and ate another fry.

Margaret quickly filled the silence, "So Corvina, have you seen any movies recently?"

Corvina smiled slightly, "Yeah, I saw Kubo and the Two Strings with my sister a couple of months ago. It was her birthday and we both love that stop-motion stuff."

Michael dipped a fry in catsup, "Have you ever seen 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'?"

Corvina's eyes lit up, "Yeah! That's one of my favorite Christmas movies."

Joey frowned. "I thought it was a Halloween movie," he signed, making scissor motions in front of his eyes.

"It is," Pam signed while saying it at the same time.

"Uh, no, it's definitely a Christmas movie."

"No way! Micheal, what do you think!"

The group turned to him, waiting for an answer. Michael fidgeted in his seat. Honestly? He thought the movie was for Halloween, but he didn't want to upset Corvina- especially since she had just joined the group. He made his hand into a 'C' and moved it in a circle. "Uh, I mean, it could be a Christmas movie."

Pam sharply turned to face him, "What do you mean Christmas, it's totally for Halloween!"

"Oh really, and where's your evidence?" Corvina questioned.

Michael glanced over at Joey and saw he was typing something into his phone. Suddenly, a loud, robotic voice blared out of it.

"_The Nightmare Before Christmas (also known as Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas) is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical dark fantasy Halloween-Christmas film directed by Henry Selick, and produced and conceived by Tim Burton."_

"So, it's for Christmas and Halloween, how nice!"

"Nope, not falling for it, it's definitely a Halloween movie."

"Bullshit."

Pam pulled out her own phone and began rapidly tapping the screen, "We are going to settle this, and I will not leave Mcdonald's until we do!"

Corvina sipped her drink, "Oh please, go on, I have all night."

Margaret sighed, grabbing her tray of leftovers, which included an empty bag of chicken nuggets, she stood. "Well, I don't. I have to get up early to tend to the gardens tomorrow morning."

Joey scrambled over Michael's lap and hopped out of the booth. "I'm going too. You coming, Michael?"

Michael leaned back, "Nah, I'll stay a bit longer, probably gonna' order dessert. Plus, somebody has to make sure Pam goes back to Kamar-Taj."

Joey snorted, "Maybe even back to the New York Sanctum this time."

"You go on one drunk bender and no one lets you forget!"

He waved to the two as they left the restaurant and then turned back to Corvina and Pam, only to find them in another all-encompassing argument.

"You're kidding me, right? You can't honestly think that Fall Out Boy is better than MCR."

Michael sighed and made himself comfortable in his part of the booth; it was going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Just to let you know, the next update might take a ****_bit _****longer, because I'm going on vacation for a week. Then after that, I'm going on Vacation ****_again_**** for another week. So hopefully you guys can hold out that long!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any properties in this story besides my OC's Margaret, Pamela, Michael, Corvina, and Joey. Stephen Strange, Mordo, Kamar-Taj, and The Ancient One, all belong to MARVEL.**

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Mordo charged at Michael, his hand alight with a golden glow. "You've got to fight Michael, you can't get anywhere by simply avoiding my attacks!" He struck out at his opponent with a closed fist.

In response, Michael ducked.

"That's not what I meant Michael!" Mordo barked. He jumped up and began to climb high in the air, his boots sparking with each step. He ran behind Michael, landing a solid kick to his back.

Michael fell forward with a sharp cry. In a last-ditch effort, his hand shot out and twisted sharply to the right. A long, glowing, rope appeared in his hand and it darted through the air towards Mordo, wrapping itself around his ankle. He barely had time to react before abruptly being wrenched from the air.

By now, Michael was standing with a worried look on his face. He hurried over to his fallen teacher. "I'm sorry, are you okay, Master Mordo?"

To Michael's surprise, Mordo was smiling. He waved a dismissing hand and hauled himself to his feet.

"I'm fine Michael, don't worry about me." For a moment there was a pause before finally Mordo lifted his hand and placed it on Michael's shoulder. "Listen, I know you don't like to fight, but that last move was amazing, and you have a lot of potential-"

Michael dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand, "That wasn't potential, that was just me freaking out. I think it was because I was afraid of another attack, or maybe because of the pain. I didn't-" He ran a hand through his short hair, "I didn't mean to do it." Michael looked down at his open palms, one torn open from the fall. The raw wound was bright against his darker skin. "I'll be fine if I fight a bad guy or something, but I can't fight a friend, someone I know isn't _really_ trying to hurt me." He closed his hands into fists and looked back at Mordo, "There's so much bad stuff that magic can do, what if I hurt someone?"

"You won't."

"I did just now."

"That was barely scratch-worthy."

Michael wanted to believe him, but he also saw his teacher carefully covering a scratch on his arm. He crossed his arms and looked down at the ground, sighing. "Still, I don't want to hurt any of my friends when we're training. Can't I just practice some more evasive maneuvers?"

Mordo shook his head, "No, for the last time, no. You've already perfected those. You have to learn how to fight. What if someone attacks the sanctum?"

"Well I'll be able to fight them, they're bad guys!"

Mordo pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an annoyed groan. Taking a deep breath, he let his hand fall back down to his side. "You know, I had a student just like you not too long ago."

"Really," Michael narrowed his eyes, "Who?"

"You may know her, her name is Margaret Levine."

Michael grinned, "Oh yeah, I know Margaret!"  
Mordo nodded, "Good, then you know that she is a very small, sweet, blonde, girl who would never hurt anyone, right?"

"Yeah, I don't even think Margaret kills the spiders in her room."

"Then it may surprise you to know that she graduated top of her class in non-magical _and _magical combat. She can disarm two 7-feet men in 37 seconds." Noting the astonished look on his student's face, he added, "Without magic."

"What… No… Margaret, seriously?" Michael sputtered, giving Mordo a confused puppy-dog look with his large, brown eyes,

Mordo nodded, "Seriously, and if she can learn how to do it without hesitation or fear, then you can too." He surveyed the courtyard and spotted pale man carrying a tall stack of books. "Tell you what, I'm going to set you up in a sparring match with one of my students. He's also been having some trouble with combat scenarios." Before Michael had time to protest, Mordo had already called the man's name.

"Stephen!"

Michael followed his teacher's gaze and found a man walking towards them across the courtyard, balancing a slipping-and-sliding stack of books. He looked like he had been pulled straight out of an old, British detective novel: tall, a goatee and slicked backed hair slightly peppered with white, and an air of superiority that can only be held by someone who knows that they're important. He turned, and, making sure not to drop any of his books, hurried over to the two.

"What's wrong Mordo?" he asked, setting his books on the ground. He glanced around that courtyard as if searching for something.

"Nothing really, I just have a student I would like you to spar with." Mordo gestured to Micheal.

Stephen's look of worry slowly morphed into annoyance, "Really, that's what you called me over here for?"

_Well, that's certainly a nice way to introduce yourself_, Michael thought, feeling only slightly offended. He glanced over at Mordo to gauge his reaction, only to find him glaring at Stephen, and Stephen glaring right back.

"Fine," Stephen huffed, setting his book on the ground at his feet, "As long as this is over in a few minutes; I have to study my Sling Ring techniques."

Michael screwed up his face into what almost seemed like an offended look.

But, with a fleeting thought of '_Whatever'_, Michael settled himself across from Stephen on a ring of flat stones; the place that was generally used for sparring or training.

Mordo stood off to the side. "Alright, this match ends when one of you is on the ground. On the count of three, you may begin. "

Michael tensed immediately, putting one foot in front of the other, bracing himself. In his head, he cycled through all the fighting moves and defense spells Mordo had ever taught him.

"One."

Michael looked Stephen up and down. Though tall enough, he was still shorter than Michael and looked scrawny. His hands were shaking.

"Two."

_I can take him._

"Three."

Stephen rushed at Michael, slamming into him at full force. Michael slipped backward, and he feared for a moment that he would fall, but he clung onto his opponent's robes and scrambled back to his feet.

Stephen reached around and with one arm grabbed at him blindly, and Michael realized that his other arm was open to attack. He gripped it and threw Stephen down at the hard stone.

For a moment Michel thought he had won, and even felt bad for throwing him so hard, when suddenly a portal opened beneath Stephen, and the man disappeared.

Michael didn't even have time to think where he could have gone when a kick to his back sent him flying. In a split second decision, he landed on his hands and pushed himself upright into a handstand. After quickly dropping his legs down and landing awkwardly in a bridge pose, he flipped back onto his feet and began to weave his hands through the air. Glowing thread burst from his hands and reached for Stephen, but the other sorcerer summoned a large, glowing shield and batted them away one by one. Michael dropped his threads, which fizzled away mid-air, and summoned his own shield. The two men faced each other for a moment, each in complete silence.

Then, they charged each other, shields up, but just before they clashed together Michael threw his to the side and it dissipated mid-air. He leaped over the top of Stephen's shield and tackled him to the ground. The shield disappeared and, after making very sure that Stephen had hit the ground this time, he stood.

"Here," Michael said, holding out a hand. Stephen took it hesitantly, and Michael quickly jerked him to his feet.

"Thanks," Stephen said, giving a curt nod. Picking up his books, he prepared to leave, but not before turning with a bewildered look on his face. "I just have one question; How did you land on your hands like that?"  
Michael rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I uh, used to take gymnastics back in Highschool."

"Uh huh," Stephen said slowly, giving Michael a strange look, "Well, see you later Michael." He stuck his hand out from under his stack of books. Michael took it and gave it a quick shake.

As he watched the man walk away, he heard a voice from behind him.

"Did you happen to notice that you didn't hold back this time?"

Michael turned and saw that Mordo had walked over from the sidelines. He laughed slightly, "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I still held back, just not as much. Maybe it's because he was a stranger, or maybe it's because he's kind of a smug asshole."

"Hm, yes, Strange can be like that."

Michael did a double-take, "What? Strange is- Strange is his name? I thought it was Stephen."

"It is, Strange, is his last name."

"So his full name would be Stephen Strange, as in the famous surgeon Stephen Strange?"

Mordo nodded thoughtfully, "I believe that's what he did before he came to Kamar-Taj."

"Awesome!" Michael exclaimed, beaming, "I can't wait to tell Pam I kicked a famous guy's ass!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey guys! I just wanted to let you all know that I will not continue to publish chapters of this story. It was cute, fun, and I liked writing it, but I wanted to give a more serious, realistic take on it. So, I'm uploading a revision of my old story. It has the same characters, and some of the basic plot, but more expanded upon. Basically I turned it into a serious, actually working hard to male it good, fanfic. I hope all of this makes sense. Anyway, if ya'll want to check it out, I just uploaded the first chapter on my account! **

**Thank you all for supporting this as much as you did, I know it's simple and only has a few chapters, but it did a lot to improve my writing. So thanks!**


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